


White Elephant

by GretchenSinister



Series: GretchenSinister's First Blacksand Week [3]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: M/M, Meta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:14:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23047591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GretchenSinister/pseuds/GretchenSinister
Summary: Day 3: White ElephantInstead of the Guardians, this exchange is a massive game involving any fictional character who wants to participate. Pitch is sitting out, and so is Sandy. They chat and things get super meta.
Relationships: Pitch Black/Sanderson Mansnoozie
Series: GretchenSinister's First Blacksand Week [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1656247
Kudos: 5
Collections: Blacksand Short Fics





	White Elephant

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on 7/9/2013.

Pitch promised himself that he was going to find whoever came up with the idea of having a white elephant exchange at the annual Fictional Mixer and kick them in the shins, or some equivalent part of their anatomy.

Unless of course it was Morpheus’ idea in the first place. But he didn’t appear to have a sense of humor, so why would he support a wacky party game? It was bizarre enough that he agreed to host the party. After all, no matter how far his memories went back, he himself wasn’t really older than 1989. But he was used to dealing with crossovers, and Pitch supposed that did count for something.

He leaned against a table, sipping his glass of—well, he didn’t really know what it was. It was more of an _idea_ of intoxication, really, in liquid form. Something to make manning the bars less complicated. To some it was the blood of a virgin, to others it was a pan-galactic gargle blaster. To him it was _pure light_ no, where had _that_ thought come from? At the party they were supposed to be free of all the outside influences that constantly buffeted them and fractured their memories. And that was the only reason he had agreed to come, at all. He thought it would be interesting to interact with other characters as they truly were—without being constantly worried that the conversation would run dry and they would decide to have sex for no reason.

But that wasn’t happening, what with so many guests involved in a white elephant exchange that involved thousands of people, and had stalled when someone had unwrapped Captain America’s shield. No one was unwrapping anything anymore, only stealing the shield from each other. Not that he could blame them. To own such a pop-culturally powerful object—well, it could be a breath of life to most of the people in the game, forgotten as they were.

Thankfully, he wasn’t quite that desperate, though the power of his popularity, such as it was, had made things rather awkward between him and the rest of the Guardians when they weren’t under the influence.

Which is why he was surprised when Sandy floated up to him, drink in hand.

_You look bored_.

“I’m more annoyed that our precious hours of freedom are being taken up by this pointless game.”

_You think we’re really free here?_

“Of course I do, Sandy. It’s why I’ve taken the opportunity to avoid Jack Frost as much as possible.”

_I doubt we’re ever really free_. Sandy signs, calmly taking a sip of his drink. _You see, it’s like this…_ his words trail off into a complicated series of nesting shapes, spiraling fractals, spiderwebs, and other such objects. _You just have to accept it_.

“Be that as it may, I feel far less fractured tonight than usual, and I wanted to spend my time in absorbing conversation.”

_Isn’t this interesting?_ Sandy looks mock-hurt.

“Well. Yes. But let’s face it Sandy, our conversations don’t always end normally. It makes me a little uneasy interacting with you.”

_Uneasy! Goodness, Pitch, if I’d known you were bothered…what is that you’re drinking?_

“I have no idea.”

Sandy raises his eyebrows. _Can I try it? I’ll trade you._

“Fine.” Sandy’s drink is cold in his hands, and as he tastes how sweet it is, it triggers a rush of memory and he almost spits it out. “SANDY! This is a sorberita! _That’s_ what you’ve been drinking?”

_Don’t look at me like that_ , Sandy signed. _I had fun. Anyway, you’ve been drinking starlight._

“I didn’t order it on purpose,” Pitch mutters.

_Either way, you can stop being so prickly. And we might as well leave the party for a while, at least until the game is over_.

“And go where, exactly?”

_San Francisco in the sixties?_ Sandy suggests.

“How about Area 51?”

_A magic show in England?_

“What about my lair?”

Sandy smiles and nods, and before Pitch can reconsider, they’ve vanished and left the game and the party behind them.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments from Tumblr:
> 
> bowlingforgerbils said: This was so precious, I loved it. <3
> 
> tejoxys reblogged this from gretchensinister and added:  
> Oh my god, this is wonderful - so short, but so funny! I LOVE the exploration into what it’s like to be a fictional character (I feel so sorry for them, oh nooo the unceasing multitudes of PWP fics).


End file.
